Wide River To Cross
by The Real TC
Summary: UPDATE! Here's Chapter 5. Spoilers for Season 7. Jack survived the heart attack, and things mostly got back to normal. But where was Lisa? This fic explores the relationship between these two, given the revelations of ep. 7.14, "Things We Lost".
1. Wide River to Cross

**Author's Note: I didn't think I'd weigh into the Heartland fandom again, but after seeing Season 7 (especially episodes 713 & 714), I had this microscopic plot bunny rolling around the corners of my mind. I got inspired by the song "Wide River to Cross", but I wouldn't call this a songfic.**

There are definitely spoilers for Season 7, and specifically episodes 713 & 714. You have my permission to skip reading this until you've seen those episodes. Stop reading right here if you don't want to be spoiled in any way, shape, or form... You've been warned!

**This little fic explores what Lisa might have been thinking and feeling after she flew back from France when Jack had his heart attack, and they had their big fight that sent her packing.**

**Chapter 1: Wide River to Cross**

She drove off in silence after their final fight.

_You take care of yourself_, she'd said in parting, her words coming out more like an emotional plea than casual, friendly advice.

It wasn't until Lisa reached Fairfield that she found herself unable to contain the tears any longer. She'd pulled into the garage, shut off the engine, and just sat in the driver's seat of the Porsche, her mind still spinning from Jack's harsh words earlier in the evening.

"_You know what?! Maybe we shouldn't go to Arizona together!"_

She'd been so stunned by his outburst that she hadn't a clue how to respond at first. So she'd simply stood there in the living room next to the hospital bed she'd rented for him, reeling in silence. His words were like a rejection, breaking an already fragile relationship; widening the chasm between them. His words, quite honestly, had hurt almost as badly as if he'd physically struck her.

If she had imagined that stories about Jack's wicked temper had been overblown, or that he had left it all in the past, Lisa realised she had only herself to blame for that. She just hadn't ever expected to be on the receiving end of that legendary temper; not like this. Not when she had flown across an ocean and a continent to be with him again. Not when she had almost lost him to a heart attack.

_You could have died, Jack, _Lisa thought in horror, as the tears welled beneath her lids; tears that were hot and stinging. She initially refused to blink, hoping, perhaps, that the tears might recede without manifesting themselves. But it was useless. The dam burst, and the moisture spilled down her cheeks in a torrent. Her sobs filled the interior of the Porsche until she was exhausted and emotionally spent.

When she had expelled the last of the tears, she climbed unsteadily out of the vehicle and trudged inside the house, weary to the bone. She didn't even bother to change into sleepwear as she tumbled into bed, misery her only companion. The reunion she had so desperately desired had not come to pass as she'd hoped it would, and her last thought before falling asleep was that now their reconciliation would never happen. Everything was ruined.

The next morning, Lisa made a call to the home care company from which she'd rented the bed to have it moved from Heartland. It would be gone before noon, she was assured, which meant Jack wouldn't have to look at it for another day and be reminded of their fight. Lisa also made arrangements to fly back to France as soon as a seat on a flight became available.

Then she cancelled her Arizona flight reservation. It made little sense to stay in Hudson now that Jack wasn't going to be there once he left for the 'States, and especially now that he clearly didn't want her to be a part of his world.

_Okay, so the bed was a mistake,_ Lisa berated herself, replaying the uncomfortable exchange from the night before. _Maybe it reminds him of the hospital. But did he have to react like that? Didn't he realise I just wanted him to be comfortable? That I care about what he's been through? That I don't want anything to happen to him again?_

She felt the tell-tale signs of tears threatening to burst forth again, but this time kept them in check. Her heart and mind were so full of words and feelings that she wanted to express to him, but knew it could never happen face to face. She couldn't trust herself to stay composed if she called him; perhaps an email might work…

In her office, Lisa sat at her computer, staring blankly at her personal email account. In fits and starts, she began to write a new message to Jack, hoping that she could keep steady hands while she typed.

_Dear Jack,_

_ I'm probably the last person you want to hear from now, especially after what happened last night._

_Things didn't go exactly as I hoped they would, I'm afraid. But you have to know that I never wanted to upset you. I only wanted to see you and be there for you. I just can't imagine what it must have been like for you when you had your heart attack, all alone in the middle of the field with no one around to help. If it hadn't been for Tim… I just can't even bring myself to consider it._

_Jack, what would I have done if you'd died? Getting that call from Lou was just awful. When I saw the call display, I initially thought it was you. I thought you were calling me because I knew you should have received my letter by then. But it wasn't you. You weren't calling me to make up; you were in a hospital bed at death's door. And Lou was frantic and so afraid we were going to lose you. I've never prayed harder in my life that you'd make it. Nothing else seemed to matter at that point. Not our vacation home, not trips to France. The only thing that mattered was that you would be okay._

_I was so grateful when I learned you were out of the woods, Jack. I was so relieved that we didn't lose you. But now it looks like I have lost you—this time for good—because we just can't seem to bridge this gap. The river is just too wide to cross this time, isn't it?_

Lisa stopped typing and frowned. She had no idea how to wrap it up. Should she put something in there that said she hoped for another chance? Beg to be given the opportunity to make things right? Or would that come off as desperate and clingy?

Her left hand was on the mouse, and the arrow hovered over the "Send" option on the screen.

Jack's angry words echoed in her mind again: _Maybe we shouldn't go to Arizona together!_

Lisa closed her eyes and sighed, trying to ignore the pain those words caused as they stabbed at her heart. Her mouth twisted into a frown.

_Arizona was your idea, Jack, _Lisa thought ruefully_. It was supposed to be a compromise since you don't want to come to France. I was willing to give it a chance… I was really looking forward to spending that time with you. But you don't want me in your life any more, do you? There is no more "us"._

In a sudden fit of pique, Lisa moved the arrow over to the "Cancel" button, and confirmed that she wanted to delete the message without sending it. The words she'd spent nearly half an hour typing vanished from sight, and she signed out from her account. She heaved another sigh, heavy and mournful, and then shut down the computer.

What, really, was keeping her in Hudson now?

Fairfield had been her home since she was born, but living there wasn't imperative—she could run her business from France just as easily as she could from Canada.

_So maybe I'll just sell Fairfield, then,_ Lisa thought with a growing sense of resentment and bitterness. _Move to France permanently._ _Give Jack the space he needs to live his life the way he wants, which obviously doesn't include me._

A new thought popped into her head as her mind refused to let her make such a rash decision without first weighing all the pros and cons:

_Okay, but what about the Dude Ranch business with Lou? What about your goddaughter, Katie? What about the horses and all the friends here in Hudson you'll be leaving behind? What about your joint business interests with Dan?_

Lisa considered.

_Lou is a perfectly capable young woman. She doesn't need my interference any more. And it's not like I won't find time to visit once or twice a year to see Katie and folks in town. The horses I can sell just as easily as I can buy them, so that won't be a problem. And Dan… I'll ask him to buy me out. Split the proceeds of the sale of Fairfield in a way that's fair and equitable to both of us. _

It seemed logical enough a solution to the more pragmatic side of Lisa's mind.

The emotional side tried one final effort to dissuade her:

_So, that's it, then? You're giving up? Cutting ties completely?_

_I'm not "giving up", _Lisa thought in rebuttal. _I'm accepting facts. Jack and I are over, and there's no reconciliation. To believe otherwise would be to delude myself._

With that, her mind was made up. It wouldn't be easy, but she decided that putting Jack and Hudson behind her was the only way she could move forward with her life.

Two days later as she flew out of Calgary International Airport on her way back to France, Lisa happened to glance out of her window to the earth below. Much of the land was covered in snow, but she could still easily make out the roads of urban areas, and the vast, empty fields of uninhabited areas.

_Empty and desolate,_ she thought glumly, _just like my heart._

Quickly and effortlessly, the plane crossed more fields, several frozen lakes and long, winding creeks and rivers. It was a sight that Lisa had seen more times than she could count as a seasoned air traveller, but this time, her gaze lingered.

_If only crossing the wide river that separates us were as easy as this, Jack,_ Lisa mused sadly, and finally pulled down the window shade, shutting away the view of a world she was leaving behind forever.


	2. This Flight Tonight

**Author's Note: Whoa! An update? No, it's not your imagination. I really have updated. This chapter covers more of Lisa's dealing with the terrible break-up after Jack's heart attack. Hope you enjoy. And yes, I do think there will be more, because I also want to explore Jack's POV at some point.**

**Chapter title and song lyrics contained within the story are from Joni Mitchell's _This Flight Tonight, _because I found them to be particularly appropriate. Once again, though, this is not to be considered a "songfic". I just seem to keep finding inspiration from songs I like. Go figure.**

**Chapter 2: This Flight Tonight**

Air turbulence didn't usually disturb Lisa. With her well-stamped passport and thousands upon thousands of miles flown in her lifetime, bumpy rides were more of an expectation than an exception. Other than the unwanted attention of another passenger, the trip from Calgary to Toronto had been singularly uneventful. The flight from Toronto to Paris, on the other hand, had been tumultuous and even nerve-racking at times, causing Lisa to feel an edge of queasiness coming on (which was uncharacteristic for her) along with the uncommon stirring of fear that the plane might actually go down.

She'd passed the two hours in between connecting flights at Pearson International in Toronto trying to finish some book a friend had recommended. Lisa had started reading it during the flight out of Calgary after trying unsuccessfully to push thoughts about Jack from her mind. Sticking her nose between the pages of the book had the added benefit of deflecting the advances of the gentleman directly across the aisle—advances that had started from moment the man had been bumped up to first class on the full flight.

_That's the last thing I need right now,_ Lisa thought in annoyance when the stranger's lips had started flapping. His efforts to engage her in conversation were painfully clichéd and made her cringe inwardly at his not-too-subtle attempts to get to know her on more intimate terms.

"I see you're not wearing a wedding ring," he'd observed with a coy smile less than two minutes after Lisa had pulled down the shade of her window after trying to shut out the barren view below that reminded her so much of her loneliness.

"That's because I'm divorced," Lisa replied dryly, not bothering to meet his expectant gaze.

"Oh," the guy replied meekly, unsure of how to interpret her response. "He's an idiot, then."

"Mm-hmm," Lisa murmured noncommittally. After all, her opinion of her ex-husband (_capital 'E', capital 'X'!) _was none of this man's business.

"I mean, you probably get this all the time," the man gushed, not yet willing to give up; still gazing at her with wide eyes across the aisle, "but I've gotta say it: you're really very pretty."

Lisa finally looked over at him while trying to keep her exasperation at bay. She gave him the once-over quickly, and found there was nothing about him that was really remarkable, dressed as he was in a generic business suit that had a rumpled look about it. He was forty-ish with day-old stubble on his cheeks, and managed to convey the impression of someone who had already consumed too much of the alcohol being offered on the first-class deck.

"I mean, really, _really_ pretty," the man emphasized with a cocky grin, "and you have beautiful eyes, too."

"My ex-husband thought the same when we first met," Lisa replied casually. She paused for a beat, then raised an eyebrow for added effect and said: "That changed when I told him I didn't love him any more; that I wanted a divorce, and kicked him off my property."

The man stared back with a flicker of confusion, and Lisa felt some satisfaction that he was starting to realise she was not the sort to be trifled with, or flirted with casually.

"Um, heh…" the man laughed with discomfort at his failure to engage her, and cast about for some way to salvage the conversation.

"Oh, we're still business partners," Lisa said without a hint of mirth, "but after years of living together, he knows I'm more than just a 'pretty' face." Lisa turned away, hoping that was all she was going to have to say to him and that the conversation was effectively over.

"Well, uh, here's to freedom, then," the other passenger continued awkwardly, raising his cocktail glass.

Lisa gave a cold, half-hearted smile and raised her own glass. "To freedom…" she eventually said, and took a long swallow of her own drink. Deep inside, though, she had to suppress a shudder of grief that she could feel bubbling to the surface. She had thought of Jack again, right when she was trying her hardest to forget about him and what they had once meant to each other.

_Jack… I don't want "freedom" if it means we're apart forever. But that door is closed, isn't it? This isn't "freedom" I'm feeling, though. This is imprisonment. I'm locked up inside a prison of loneliness, and I just can't see a way out… Gosh, I must find a way to stop tormenting myself like this…_

Resignedly, Lisa pulled out the novel, but the plot was only marginally able to hold her attention. At the very least it provided a decent enough distraction from her emotional woes. When the plane landed safely at Pearson, Lisa was struck by the depressing thought that with each new plane she boarded, she was being taken further and further away from where she knew her heart belonged.

An hour into the flight to Paris, the captain's monotone voice crackled inside the cabin. He advised them they were approaching some unstable weather he would be unable to totally avoid, and to expect some uncomfortable moments during the rest of the flight. The instruction to buckle up was predictably delivered in both French and English. Lisa understood what was said both times, but dutifully strapped the belt across her lap when the direction was issued the first time. After so many flights, she knew it was better to do it right away than to have one of the well-meaning airline stewards saunter down the aisle, smile the concerned smile, lean across her and remind her that the captain's orders were sacrosanct.

A certain weariness settled over Lisa as she tried to make herself comfortable. Even in the roomy first-class seat and with the generous leg room, she was finding it very difficult to relax. For some reason, thoughts about the man who'd made a pass at her on the earlier flight would not leave her in peace.

_That shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did_, Lisa thought with an unconscious frown. She was used to the admiring looks of other men, but this last time was different. It wasn't the kind of look or the kind of conversation she had wanted to invite from him, or from anyone else, for that matter.

_The only man I want looking at me is Jack_, she thought fervently. _When he tells me I'm beautiful, it's like I'm hearing it for the first time. It's like I'm hearing Love itself saying my name. Nobody else can do that. I don't want anyone else to do it, either. I want Jack…_

Without warning, the plane dipped in altitude, causing several passengers to gasp in surprise. Lisa felt her stomach lurch at the sudden drop, but the pilot steadily pulled the plane back up again. There was another drop, this time deeper than the first, followed by a series of violent tremors that caused a noisy rattling throughout the cabin. Even the stewards took protective measures by strapping themselves into the flip-down seats designed for just such an event, and Lisa carefully watched their faces to see if their expressions would betray any indication that this turbulence was any worse than usual.

From her vantage point, she could see two of the flight attendants, and their faces were drawn into masks of professional detachment. No fear or anxiety was indicated in their eyes, but from the thin lines of their taut mouths, Lisa could sense that even they were concerned as the plane continued to shake.

At one point, the plane seemed to roll to the left on an almost vertical tilt, causing some of the overhead baggage bins to spill their contents. A duffle bag collided with the shoulder of one of the passengers and tumbled to the aisle floor while a smaller carry-on bag landed in the lap of another passenger. The well-dressed woman obliquely opposite Lisa crossed herself in prayer and shut her eyes. A child started wailing somewhere in the middle of the plane and the parents tried to comfort him in hushed, soothing tones.

Lisa gripped the arms of her seat, took a deep breath, and reminded herself that she had experienced rocky rides like this before… But somehow, the fear that this time might prove to be worse than the rest was inescapable. _We're 35000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean_, Lisa mused hypothetically. _If we go down now, will they ever find us? Stop thinking like that! You've been though turbulence like this before. Everything is going to be all right. _

The pilots righted the bird, and Lisa exhaled loudly; her cramping hands relaxed on the armrests. The shaking and rattling abated, and Lisa noted that the flight attendants' faces became more placid. _Maybe the worst is over now_, she thought in hope.

While the seatbelt sign remained on for passengers, the flight attendants began some quick cleanup, re-packing baggage that had spilled from the bins and checking on the well-being of passengers who had been struck by falling items. No one had been seriously injured; mainly just more dazed and shaken up than harmed.

But the worst was not over.

Half a dozen more turbulent phases troubled the Toronto to Paris flight, each a prolonged series of rolling and shaking with the plane bobbing more like a cork on a violent, stormy sea than an eagle soaring in calm skies.

Lisa could hear several passengers getting sick to their stomachs and felt pity for them. She could feel her own gut roiling with the incessant roller-coaster ride of a flight, but she managed with some effort to keep her contents to herself.

One particularly scary drop and roll caused the cabin lights to flicker ominously. Loss of power could be a very bad thing for a plane and for the first time Lisa abandoned her prior hypothetical musings. This was getting really serious and she truly started wondering if she should mentally prepare for a crash-landing at sea.

"_Lost at sea." Is that the way they'll memorialize me?_ The morbid thought brought on a chill that seized Lisa in its icy grip. _Is this the way things are going to end? Without Jack and I ever reconciling? God, please don't let things end like this. Please let me have one more chance to make it right with Jack…_

Uninvited, some stray lyrics from a Joni Mitchell song ran through her mind right then as if to echo her earnest wish to be back with Jack:

_Oh, starbright, starbright, you've got the lovin' that I like all right, Turn this crazy bird around, I shouldn't have got on this flight tonight._

Once the chorus was over, Lisa couldn't help the next verse from following right on its heels:

_You got the touch so gentle and sweet, But you've got that look so critical, Now I can't talk to you baby, I get so weak, Sometimes I think love is just mythical._

The captain's voice interrupted the mental replay of the song. He apologized profusely several times, though the passengers all knew it was hardly his fault that they'd been hit by so much disruptive air turbulence. It seemed they were finally through the danger zone, and they were going to land at Charles De Gaulle Airport a little past the scheduled time, but with the assurance that it would be a safe landing.

When the wheels finally touched down nearly an hour later, the passengers broke into loud and enthusiastic applause. Though exhausted, Lisa joined in, as she was genuinely grateful that the crew in the cockpit had kept them up in the air and brought them to their destination in one piece. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she might yet live to see another chance to set things right with the man she had once hoped to spend the rest of her life with.

_Jack,_ Lisa thought as she ambled up the aisle towards the exit with her carry-on luggage, _things are still pretty shaky with us right now. But this awful flight made me realise I don't want things to end like this. I don't want to live with regrets. Maybe you're not ready yet to make up. Maybe we just need time. If there's a way I can get you to see how much I still want you in my life, I'll find that way. _

Bone-tired and still not quite settled in her stomach, Lisa asked her hired driver to take the ride to her hotel at a slow, easy pace. In the morning she would be making the last leg of her journey by air again, this time to Toulon. Her eyes drifted shut as the purr of the town car's engine lulled her into an uneasy sleep, only to be interrupted minutes later when the driver announced they had reached the hotel.

_I am just going to crawl into bed and sleep until it's time to get to the airport tomorrow_, Lisa decided as she shuffled inside her room. She barely took in her luxury surroundings as she pulled off her footwear and shucked her outer layer of clothing. Still rather woolly-headed, Lisa managed to probe blindly through her suitcase for something appropriate to sleep in, and forced herself to brush her teeth before finally dropping like a stone into the king-sized bed. Her last thought before falling asleep was how much better it would have been if she had Jack beside her, snuggled up against her on the much-too-large mattress.

_I wish you were here, Jack… But maybe when you're in Arizona you'll find time to miss me as much as I'm already missing you…_

* * *

><p><strong>TBC...<strong>


	3. Food For Thought

**Author's Note: **_Yay! Another update. Here I expand a little on Lisa's world that we never see. While I doubt we'll ever see Lisa's France and her vacation home in Toulon, much less any of her friends there, I've held off for the time being going into any kind of explicit detail about these things. (What if one day we see these things and we meet some people Lisa has mentioned, and my personal descriptions are way off?) Anyway, here's Chapter Three. _

**Food For Thought**

Lisa was awakened from a dead sleep by her iPhone alarm. Momentarily disoriented, she cracked open one eye to check the time on the device, wondering where she was and why the alarm's happy tones had roused her. Seconds later the haze of her sleepy brain cleared sufficiently for her to recall that she was in a hotel room in Paris.

_Right,_ she thought, sighing with relief that she hadn't slept past some important appointment. _I arrived here last night after that very rough flight from Toronto... Good Lord, that was the worst flight I've had in ages. Jack wouldn't have been a happy passenger if he'd been with me... Oh, if he'd been with me, I'd have held his hand the whole way, and that would have made things so much better… _

But Jack hadn't been with her, of course. He was in Hudson, probably asleep. _Asleep in his _own_ bed—not that stupid hospital bed I rented for him, _Lisa silently seethed, still feeling emotionally burnt that something so minor had lit the fuse on the powder keg that blew up their relationship.

With a huff of annoyance, she shut off the alarm and rolled onto her back, allowing her eyes to close again; head sunk in the pillow. It was 10:00 a.m. local time, and Lisa was at once grateful the thick curtains hanging in the room muted the glow of the sun's rays. January in Paris was usually on the bleak, dreary side, but the skies this morning were cloudless, giving way to bright sunshine. It was such a direct contrast to her gloomy mood, Lisa was tempted to pull the covers over her head, skip her flight to Toulon, and just camp out in this Paris hotel room for a month. But her friends, Frank and Brenda Dufresne, knew she was returning that afternoon and had invited her to dinner, so staying in Paris simply was not an option.

After another minute of just resting lightly, Lisa sat up in the large bed and threw back the duvet, knowing that she had a little under an hour to get to the airport for her flight to Toulon. Her stomach gave a low growl, making her realise the queasiness from the flight had passed and she was actually hungry.

_I guess that's a good sign,_ Lisa thought as she slunk her drowsy way into the en suite bathroom to wash her face along with her usual morning rituals. In the bright vanity lights, Lisa noted the dark circles under her pale blue eyes as she stared at her reflection. _Well, don't I just look wonderful this morning_, she thought sarcastically. Her bangs hung limply over her forehead, the sight of which served only to exacerbate her low spirits. She loosened the hair band from her ponytail, allowing her dyed tresses to fall behind her neck. Idly, she pulled at some loose, lifeless strands that brushed her shoulder, regarding them seriously and dispassionately. Lisa pouted; not entirely convinced going dark was the best option this time around. Jack, for one, hadn't seemed interested in commenting on the change, if he had in fact noticed, and for the first time Lisa wondered why she bothered changing her colour at all. _Because change is good every once in a while_, one side of her brain argued; _Yeah, try convincing Jack Bartlett of that,_ the other side shot back sourly. _Mr. I-don't-like-change. I do not like it, Jack-I-am. I do not like it on a train; I do not like it on a plane… I do not like change! I do not like it on the range, I do not like it; it's too strange. _

Lisa shook her head at her brain's silly corruption of the classic Dr. Seuss _Green Eggs and Ham_ rhyming story. It was simply no use trying to push Jack out of her mind as every stray thought led right back to him. Nothing about leaving Hudson was feeling right, but if she couldn't be with Jack, staying there wouldn't feel right, either, not when she could run into him at any given time. With the knowledge solidly stamped into her consciousness that he wasn't interested in being with her, just the sight of him somewhere in town would be too painful. It would simply remind her of what she had lost and could never recover—not unless Jack had a major change of heart.

Memories of happier times played back on the screens of her mind like a grand, 3-D IMAX movie. They were rich, vivid images full of joy and warmth, and Lisa felt her heart fill with a longing to recapture those times. One outing usually stood out above the rest whenever she sorted through their past shared experiences, and that was the first time Jack had taken her to his private fishing cabin.

_I didn't know fly-fishing was a team sport_, Lisa remembered joking lightly as he'd encircled her in his strong arms while directing her on the finer points of casting his rod. They'd stood there in the river, gently swayed by the flowing waters, just the two of them, nestled in the shadow of the gorgeous, breathtaking Rocky Mountains. Without knowing quite how it happened, Lisa managed to hook a fish with Jack's line and he shared in her delight as he helped her reel it in. Both Jack and Lisa were sensing at that moment something very special was starting to occur between them.

Later, after Jack had hooked another couple trout, they retired to the cabin to get out of the bulky hip waders and prepare an early supper. Lisa remembered how Jack insisted on preparing the fish himself, right down to scaling, de-boning, and gutting them. _You just relax,_ he'd said, _I know you rarely give yourself a chance to just slow down and take it easy, what with keeping your business running all the time…_

He'd been right, of course. The little piece of heaven that was Jack's fishing retreat had been one of the most restful escapades she'd had in a while. So she'd done as he instructed and watched while he busied himself at the fire, charmed by the sound of his gentle humming while he cooked. He did allow her to take care of one chore, which was to pop the cork on the bottle of wine she'd brought. Since the weather on that October afternoon was still quite mild, Jack suggested they eat outside in the fresh air.

Her earlier frustration at not being able to cast her own line was long forgotten, along with her rueful comment that it would probably have been much easier to get fish at a nice restaurant. Jack's cooking prowess was a revelation; fresh fish had never tasted better to Lisa in her life. Sharing conversation while they looked out on the gushing river brought Lisa to the knowledge of just how much she was missing in terms of this kind of companionship. Warmed by the meal, the wine and the gracious company of her host, it dawned on Lisa that she had quite possibly stumbled upon that proverbial diamond in the rough.

Jackson Bartlett, rodeo legend; Jack, years and years her senior, was opening up to her about his likes and dislikes; about his dearly departed wife, Lyndy… and Lisa felt so very gifted that Jack had somehow granted her a glimpse of his private world—a world she intuited very few were ever privileged to see—and she knew right then she was falling in love with him.

It seemed too crazy for words, since they were from such disparate worlds, but when Lisa met his gaze as they toasted each other—_To whatever this is_—she saw passion in his eyes that communicated to her his deep interest in wanting to get to know her on a more intimate level: one that went beyond an occasional friendly date or relaxing fishing expedition.

Now as she stood in the shower of her Paris hotel room, briskly scrubbing away the last vestiges of sleep from her jet-lagged limbs and from her tired eyes, Lisa pondered all the things that contributed to the souring of her relationship with Jack. _Why did we let things go so wrong between us?_ Lisa let the sad question hover in her mind. The fault for the breakup wasn't entirely one-sided; she was honest enough to concede that much. _We both have things to be sorry for… and I was asking to be reconciled before you had your heart attack. I flew back to Hudson to be with you. We just never got around to really digging in deep and facing our issues. That stupid bed got in the way. _

Lisa stepped out of the shower to towel off and to dry her hair. She donned a comfortable pair of dark slacks and a white tailored silk long-sleeved blouse, knowing that a sweater would be too warm for when she landed in Toulon. Southern France would be enjoying much milder weather than bleak, mid-winter Hudson was. As much as she liked her new "vacation" home away from home, Lisa wasn't really looking forward to this return. Jack didn't like France, and it was clear they would never share any cheerful, relaxing moments in Toulon as they'd shared at Jack's rustic cabin.

_We won't even have Arizona_, Lisa thought dismally, remembering how they had made hasty plans to go there together once they knew Jack was going to be okay. _I packed my bags full of "summer" clothes in anticipation of that trip… and in anticipation of making up. _She stared at those bags now, piled up against one of the hotel room walls. The outfits she packed for Arizona wouldn't quite do for the dry but windy weather typical of Toulon, but she wouldn't exactly freeze in them, either.

A look at her iPhone told Lisa she should start making her way down to the lobby. Her hired driver would be there soon to whisk her off to the airport. Her stomach made rumbling noises again, reminding her she hadn't eaten since the night before. _Maybe I'll swipe something quickly from the continental breakfast buffet_, she decided. _That'll tide me over until I get to Frank and Brenda's._

* * *

><p>"…And they make you lie in there for almost an hour. Lie <em>still<em>, mind you. You can't move around. It corrupts up the images, I think; they do not tell you exactly _why._" Frank Dufresne was chattering on about his most recent medical adventure, which was an MRI of his head.

Lisa nodded sympathetically and took a sip of after-dinner espresso, trying her best to stay awake. She was sitting in the home of Frank and Brenda Dufresne, which was just a five minute drive from her own new place in Toulon. The Dufresnes were a childless couple in their fifties who seemed to be compensating for the lack of offspring with the acquisition of horses.

It was this love of horses and passion for discovering new breed stock that had led to first a working relationship between them and Lisa; as time went on, they managed to develop a close friendship.

The meal had been wonderful; Brenda was as near a Cordon Bleu chef one could be without actually having studied at _Le Cordon Bleu_. For dinner that evening, she'd prepared sautéed lamb noisettes, potatoes, and asparagus, all cooked to perfection and served as beautifully as any Michelin-starred eatery.

"You're my guinea pig," Brenda declared when Lisa had arrived. "I'm thinking of using this for my Easter menu, and I wanted to see how well it comes out."

"I love being your guinea pig," Lisa had said, and meant it. While she enjoyed dining at top quality restaurants during her times in France as she had done when Jack had come, Lisa was also happy to be spoiled by Brenda's culinary talents whenever she could.

But as she sat at the table now, trying to keep her eyes open, Lisa suddenly wondered what the Bartlett-Fleming-Morris family might be eating that night. _Hmm… something hearty and wholesome at the same time_, she imagined. _A garden salad, mashed potatoes, meatloaf, and some seasonal vegetables, perhaps…_

"…And you wouldn't believe the nurse!" Frank was continuing his story effusively, staring pointedly at Lisa to make sure he still had her attention. "That needle. She pokes me _twice_ here," he said, tapping the crook of his right arm, "and still she does not find the vein. She has to try my left side and finally… success. It was for that contrast dye. You know, they say people can have a fatal reaction to it. They make you sign a waiver. Imagine!"

Lisa stifled a yawn, forcing herself to focus. She couldn't even remember why Frank had needed the MRI in the first place, and now he was going on about the deafening noises he was subjected to while being scanned. He then moved on to telling of the woman who had had a panic attack earlier in the MRI machine because she was claustrophobic.

_Oh, my gosh,_ _he just doesn't stop. Jack was right. Frank _is_ boring! Why did I never notice this before?_ Lisa thought with a small measure of guilt. _All he does is talk about his medical problems the whole time while everyone knows there's absolutely nothing wrong with him._

"So what's become of that old beau of yours?"

For a second Lisa didn't realise that Frank was addressing her. She snapped to attention and looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"You know, the old boy who would not remove that filthy cowboy hat no matter where we went," Frank continued, not the least bit aware his less-than-flattering assessment of Jack had caused a surge of indignation to rise within Lisa.

"You mean Jack," Lisa said pointedly, staring straight at her hypochondriac host.

Frank was still blithely unaware of the effect his callous description of Jack was having on his guest. "Yes! That's his name. I trust he is well, then? What was it, a trouble with the heart?"

"Uh, yes," Lisa murmured, as her stomach dropped in dread remembrance of when Lou had called to tell her about Jack's heart attack. She smiled tightly as she answered: "Jack's much better now, thank you…"

"Ah, _bon_," Frank said cheerily. "When will he be back to France? Soon, I hope; perhaps when he is fully recovered."

"Yes, Lisa," Brenda put in with enthusiasm. "It was so nice to meet him after all the times you talked about him. You were so happy to have him here. He makes you smile so much."

Lisa cleared her throat uncomfortably, wondering how to put the best spin on the breakup. She hadn't revealed to any of her friends in France that Jack had really despised his visit. At this moment, though, she was too tired to keep up any pretense that things were fine, and she stumbled through an explanation:

"Um, well, Jack and I… we're not together any more," she started slowly. "It turns out he isn't really into travelling. France just isn't his idea of a good time, and he'd been hiding his feelings from me about his visit for a long time. Things just sort of came to a head a few months ago and we had it all out: Things about what he hated during the trip to… well, everything… _I _felt the fool for believing he'd had a good time, and I… I guess I just felt like I didn't really know him as well as I thought I did."

Brenda reached out a sympathetic hand. "Oh, Lisa, I had no idea. I'm so sorry," she uttered with sincerity.

Lisa nodded. "I'm sorry, too," she said with a sad laugh, her brow buckling. "I kept hoping we'd make up; I even wrote to him telling him as much. Then Jack had his heart attack, and as you know, I flew back there as soon as I could. I… I'd _hoped _it would be the right time to make up, but I made some stupid mistakes, and now I'm paying the price. Jack wants nothing to do with me."

Frank grunted. "I think it is for the better," he commented dryly. Brenda shot him a look of consternation while Lisa just stared at him, shocked by this unsolicited opinion.

"After all, he is old enough to be your papa, Lisa," Frank continued with a shake of his head, as if he'd been against their relationship from the very beginning. "You and he… you are not, how they say, _compatible._"

Brenda scowled and narrowed her eyes in warning that her husband was treading on dangerous territory. "_François,_" she hissed between clenched teeth, "that's enough."

For once, Frank stopped talking and turned to Brenda, open-mouthed.

"Lisa's had a long trip from Canada. She must be tired, and she does not need to be hearing all of this right now," Brenda said as diplomatically as possible.

_You've certainly got that right,_ Lisa thought, holding in her emotions that were wildly seeking some form of release. But she knew if she didn't keep a solid lid on them, she would say something to Frank that she would regret. Her friendship with the Dufresnes was too well-established to repay one insensitive comment with another. Instead, Lisa allowed a yawn to escape. "I actually didn't realise just _how_ tired I am until now," she stated as she pushed back her chair and stood. "Thank you both for having me over tonight. I always feel so welcome in your home."

_Just not when you're dumping on my love life, or lack of it,_ Lisa mused, still smoldering under the surface due to Frank's unvarnished take on why she and Jack were doomed from the start. Both Brenda and Frank stood as Lisa did; Brenda looking quite dismayed at the unfortunate turn of events. Lisa caught her mortified expression and was grateful for it, but she felt she had to leave that house quickly.

Frank looked as if he wasn't sure what had caused Lisa's decision to depart so suddenly. He awkwardly followed behind Brenda as she scurried after Lisa's swiftly departing figure. At the door, they bid their guest good night.

"Sorry, Lisa," Brenda whispered as she kissed Lisa's cheek in a gesture of farewell. "He's an ass sometimes…"

"It's all right," Lisa replied quietly, wanting to impress upon her friend she did not expect her to apologize for Frank.

"_Bonne nuit_," said Frank jovially, patting Lisa on the shoulder with a little more force than was necessary, causing Lisa to cringe in discomfort.

"Good night, both of you," Lisa rejoined, and was finally out the door, chewing on the disturbing question of whether or not all her friends in France felt the same way about Jack as Frank did…

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><p>To be continued...<p> 


	4. Alone Again

**Author's note: Hey, it's another update! Can you believe it? My muse in on fire or something. I never update stuff this quickly. Anyway, this chapter is going to be Jack's perspective on things, just like I've been promising. I hope you enjoy. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Morning came to Heartland slowly and quietly. Snow had fallen overnight, so the thick cover blanketing every exterior surface produced a profound sound-dampening effect, hushing any noises from the world outside. The winter sun hadn't even risen by eight a.m., but everyone in the house was already up and seeing to chores and regular routines; everyone except Jack. He knew better than to come pattering out of his room in his dressing gown to try to make himself useful, much less in a flannel shirt, jeans, and his boots. Lou would've "had a cow", as Georgie once put it, if she'd caught Jack doing anything remotely resembling work. He'd tried to argue once that frying bacon and scrambling eggs for breakfast for the family didn't even begin to approach the "strenuous activity" his doctor advised against, but Lou nearly had a meltdown the first time he'd tried, post-heart attack, to cook for them. If there was one thing Jack hated more than inactivity, it was when Lou fussed over him. So, he held his tongue almost to the point of biting it off and remained as sedate as possible in the mornings so as to keep the peace.

Footsteps echoed softly in the kitchen; chairs scraped gently against the floor; plates and cutlery clattered in the sink. If Jack listened closely enough, he could distinguish between Georgie's clomping footfalls and Katie's soft toddling; between Amy's light step and Lou's purposeful stride. They were all trying to keep it down for his sake, but he knew about all their movements anyway. He wasn't entirely comfortable that they were trying so hard not to disturb him; that they thought he needed absolute silence to recover. He also couldn't quite shake the nagging feeling that all the family members were constantly walking on eggshells around him. It was as if they'd made some tacit rule while he was still in the hospital: _Don't say or do anything to upset Grandpa; he might have another heart attack, and it'll be our fault if he does._ That irritating behaviour made him believe they suddenly regarded him as fragile and liable to crumble away at the slightest touch.

No one had said a word about the sudden appearance and disappearance of the hospital bed—at least not in Jack's presence—nor had anyone said a word to him about Lisa's sudden departure. There were times around the dinner table when Jack sensed the topic of his status with Lisa was on the tip of Lou's tongue: He would catch her looking at him with an expression that was a mix of concern and curiosity, but whatever questions she had brewing would retreat into the recesses of her mind once he met her gaze. Sometimes, he wished she would just spit it out and get it over with, but he was mostly relieved not to have to talk about it. Just thinking about how poorly he'd handled the situation made him want to forget it happened at all; much better to remember happier times.

Car keys jingled; the front door and screen opened and shut. Silence reigned again. Jack finally ventured outside his room, knowing everyone had left. Since it was a school day, Georgie had gone off to catch the bus. Amy was most likely out in the barn to see after whatever client horses she was dealing with; Lou had taken Katie to some kid-friendly activity or other.

Left alone with his thoughts, Jack made his way to the empty kitchen, grimacing as the pain in his arthritic joints flared up. The cold weather usually exacerbated the discomfort, and today was no exception. He sat down slowly at the small table, the sash of his robe trailing on the floor, unnoticed. Through the window, Jack looked at the first hints of dawn peeking above the horizon. It was a deep orange that flared out and coloured the rest of the sky in pinkish, purple hues. After the previous night's snows, the skies had cleared, giving way to a deep chill. Absently, Jack rubbed at his swollen knees, willing the ache to subside. He pursed his lips, thinking that right at this moment, Lisa was probably enjoying much warmer temperatures in Toulon, or wherever she was in France.

_We had fun in France, right?_

Jack felt the corners of his mouth pull downwards almost of their own volition in a deep, self-indulgent pout. _No, I didn't have fun in France, actually,_ he thought, feeling a return of the deep discomfort he'd experienced while in Paris. The truth was that France was nothing like Alberta, and Jack discovered he had zero points of reference in that foreign country. The one thing that had made it bearable was Lisa's presence, and even that hadn't really been enough to take the edge off his constant unease and perceived awkwardness. She was very much at home there; he wasn't, and he knew he could never be.

But France brought out a different side of Lisa: a happy side that he hadn't seen before—not that Lisa wasn't "happy" in Hudson too, of course—but it was the ease at which she navigated the language and the culture that set Jack back on his heels and made him feel drastically out of place. It frustrated him to no end that he couldn't share properly in that happiness, and though he did his best to hide how absolutely uncomfortable he was, part of him was deeply upset Lisa didn't once guess at his own unhappiness. _Perhaps I hid it too well…_ he mused.

_If I'd known what a lousy time you were having in France…_

_It wasn't a "lousy time"… I was with you…_

Jack felt his frown intensify. The muscles in his jaw and throat pulled taut as he replayed the conversation they'd had about the vacation property she'd wanted them to buy in Toulon.

_Where do we go from here? _Lisa had asked with a tremor in her voice as she looked squarely at him, expecting an answer that would assuage her fear that they were on divergent paths.

_But I didn't have an answer for her then,_ Jack thought uncomfortably, rubbing his stubbly chin and wondering for the hundredth time what he could have said or done differently during that talk. _And then she walked out, saying she needed me to think about where we were headed because she needed an answer… and it was like a stake through my heart when she left. _

His doctor blamed the heart attack on too much stress. There had certainly been plenty of it due to the work he'd taken on for Rich, with things coming to a head with Tim, and then nearly losing Phoenix because they didn't have the funds to buy out Eric Williams… But privately, Jack knew all of that only compounded the underlying issue: he was heartsick and heartbroken over his split with Lisa. The heart attack had merely been the inevitable manifestation of that brokenness.

Jack felt as if a cold stone suddenly dropped into the pit of his empty stomach. The hurt he'd witnessed spread across Lisa's lovely features the second he'd yelled "Maybe we shouldn't go to Arizona together!" came back to him, and he shut his eyes with deep regret.

_It was wrong of me to push you away like that, and it just came out all wrong. That bed scared me, Lisa. Not only did it remind me of when I lost Lyndy, but it reminded me of my own mortality. The heart attack scared me. I thought I was gonna die out there in that field… I was gonna die without being reconciled to you, and I knew it would be something awful for you. But then I remember thinking how peaceful everything was, lying out there in the field, even though it felt like a boulder was crushing my chest. It was the last thing I recall thinking that it's good and proper that I die right here, on my family's land, and not in some stuffy, closed room in a hospital bed…_

_Lis, I was so happy when you came back, _Jack thought to himself as a sad smile creased his face. _I was so happy. I wanted to "bridge that gap" you wrote about in your letter… but that damned bed. You don't know what it's like, Lisa. You don't know what it's like to sit by one of those beds while the person you love with all your heart fades away to nothing. How could you have got me one of those beds? You think I would have been _comfortable_ in one of those beds? Those are death beds, Lisa. And I may not be in the ground yet, but ten years down the line, who knows what will happen? You're so much younger than I am; you still have half your life to live, and I… I'm so much closer to the finish line. Do you really want to be tied to me when I'm sick and old and drooling from the mouth; an invalid who needs help just to eat?_ _No, Lisa. I can't do that to you... I won't do that to you. You're better off without ever having to go through that. I couldn't stand to see you lose me. It would break your heart, and it would break mine to see it. I just wish… I just wish I could have had a chance to explain that to you… but maybe it's for the best. You're gone away, and you're probably not coming back. Maybe one day you'll be relieved that you didn't have to put up with me in my final years…_

The kitchen brightened as the sun finally crested the horizon, sending its rays through the windows. Jack pulled himself up from his seat, grimacing yet again as his knees creaked painfully. Lou had sliced some apples and made some porridge for his breakfast. Jack half-heartedly spooned the sticky slop into a bowl and shoved it into the microwave to warm it up. His mind wandered to what he was actually going to do with his time once he got to Arizona next week. The doctor seemed to think the hot climate and rest would do wonders for his overall health, but Jack wasn't entirely convinced. He'd never gone anywhere outside of Canada on his own before, nor was he fond of air travel… And then he was sure he'd hate being away from the family…

_Stop kidding yourself_, Jack thought,_ you were looking forward to having that time with Lisa, and you know it. But that's not going to happen now, is it? Both you and she made sure of that._

The microwave timer beeped obnoxiously, startling Jack from his ruminations. Almost on auto-pilot, he opened the door and gingerly pulled out the steaming bowl. Eating was a mechanical exercise that morning for Jack. He dipped his spoon into the porridge, opened his mouth, chewed a little and swallowed, barely tasting what was going down each time. He nearly didn't even finish the apple slices, as they were rather dry and corky in texture, meaning they were probably past their natural "best before" date and wholly unappealing. But he forced himself nevertheless; he never liked food going to waste.

_What will the food will be like in Arizona?_ Jack wondered. _Will I like eating with the locals? They'll be pretty accepting of an old cowboy like me down there, right? It won't be like those snooty waiters in France… And thank God they speak English in Phoenix. Without Lisa there to translate for me when we were in Paris, I would have been utterly lost… _

Jack finished chewing the last apple slice. He got up again, bracing for the pain in his bad knees, and then crossed to the sink to rinse out his bowl, remembering how hopelessly lost he was in public places and Parisian restaurants as everyone chattered on around him in a tongue he couldn't comprehend. Lisa had always indulgently and patiently translated for him, no matter how trivial a phrase or lengthy a conversation.

_You just can't stop thinking about Lisa, can you?_ Jack realised. _Maybe there's still time to call her… Make up with her… Ask her to come back… _

_No, you're not going to do that. She doesn't need to be tied to you any longer,_ Jack told himself sternly. _You know it's best for both of you if you just let her go. She'll figure it out for herself sooner or later that she's dodged a major bullet by not having to spoon-feed you mashed potatoes when you're too old and too incapacitated to look after yourself. She deserves better than that. Don't make yourself her burden. _

Heaving a loud sigh, Jack returned to his bedroom to lie down again. Ever since the heart attack, he found himself growing tired easily. His spirits were low and oppressed as he realised he actually didn't want to go to Arizona alone, in spite of convincing himself it was better to keep Lisa at a distance. But he'd given the doctor his promise that he would follow the orders for a long break in a warm climate, and Jack Bartlett was a man of his words.

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><p>To be continued...<p> 


	5. By the Time I Get to Phoenix

**Author's Note: **This is another chapter from Jack's POV, and I suspect the next one will be, too. I'd love to know what he was doing during his month away from home in Arizona, and I hint at a little of that in this chapter. Hope you enjoy this one. Not a whole lot happens because it is one of the more introspective points in the story. Getting inside Jack's head (as many of you have found) is a bit of a challenge, so I hope what I've written isn't out-of-character. Yes, it's another song-inspired chapter title because it was just too good a title to pass up.

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: By the Time I Get to Phoenix<strong>

Jack looked outside the ranch house kitchen window to see a vast expanse of cloud arching from horizon to horizon. It was the tell-tale sign of a chinook: that cascade of warm, dry air that occasionally tumbles over the eastern side of the Canadian Rockies from the west. The sunrise that morning coloured the underside of the wide band of cloud a dramatic pink while the top faded away to a dark, slate grey that reached up to the inky, black sky.

_It figures things would warm up on the day I leave for Arizona,_ Jack thought grumpily to himself. Already he could see the frost melting on the window panes, leaving water beading on the glass, while icicles dangling from the roof dripped water to the snowy ground beneath. In another few hours of chinook warmth, that very snow was liable to become a very large, very slushy, messy puddle. From a lifetime spent in Alberta, Jack had known that "chinook" was a First Nations word that roughly translated into "snow eater", and he could see why. During the dead of winter, a chinook could roar in over the mountains causing temperatures to skyrocket in a matter of hours. Snow and ice had no choice but to succumb to Nature's version of a hot air dryer. Southern Albertans, sick of being cooped up indoors and weary of bundling up under layers of thermal underwear and down-filled parkas, would venture boldly outdoors —some in shorts and T-shirts—as on a summer day. The chinook would of course blow over in a few days, and the relief it brought from the frigid winter would be short-lived. Jack considered this inevitable shift in the weather patterns of his specific geographical location: _I'll be long gone by the time things get cold again_…

With Lou's prodding, Jack had found some activities through various tourist websites that would help occupy his time while in Arizona. The ones that entailed horseback riding excursions had especially appealed to him, and he signed up for what he hoped would be an authentic, roughing-it-all-the-way experience, and not some cushy trek that catered to pampered city-slickers. Just thinking about sitting in a saddle surrounded by Arizona's natural beauty made Jack think he just might enjoy his little vacation after all. Lou was privately dismayed her grandfather didn't choose a gentler activity, but wisely did not raise any objection; she knew what an effort it took just for Jack to get on a plane to leave the comforts and familiarity of home.

Jack finally turned away from the window. He'd already said his reluctant goodbyes to Georgie and Amy earlier that morning. The former had of course gone on her way to school; the latter had been asked to give a clinic at a ranch just outside of Medicine Hat, so off she had gone in Jack's truck before dawn. The night before, Lou had insisted they at least have some sort of "farewell" dinner so everyone could have a chance to see Jack off properly. Peter and Ty had been able to attend, and while Jack hadn't wanted everyone to go through the trouble just for him, he'd been privately grateful for the presence of the other men. With Pete around, Lou tended to fuss less… And Ty… he was like the grandson Jack never had, and Jack felt at ease with the notion that one or all of these males would be available if Amy and Lou needed them.

_You've still got a touch of the chauvinist in you,_ _don't you? _Jack chided himself. Even after all the years of allowing Lyndy the freedom to tour as a professional singer; the years of allowing Marion to run Heartland as she saw fit; and now allowing Amy and Lou to manage their own business affairs, he sometimes worried about how they'd cope without him and without the other men in their lives. _Stubborn old man,_ he thought in self-deprecation. He might have indeed allowed his dearly departed wife the space to make a living as a singer, but he knew there was so much he hadn't made space for. _And I almost messed it up for Lou when I was against her building her Dude Ranch on this land_. _Thank goodness Lisa talked some sense into me…_

Jack stopped his ruminations dead in their tracks. He didn't want to think of Lisa right now. _What did a smart, beautiful woman like her ever see in an old man like me, anyway?_

"Hey, why the frown, Jack? Having second thoughts about leaving?"

Startled by the new voice invading his mental space, Jack looked up and saw his grandson-in-law standing at the threshold of the kitchen from the living room. Peter Morris was observing him with an amused eye. Jack waved aside P.W.'s concern and forced a smile.

"Nah," Jack replied. "I was just thinking about the hassle they put you through at the airport…"

"Oh. Yeah," Pete said with a sigh of agreement, "it's a pain in the rear. Trust me: you get used to it."

Jack gave a curt laugh, knowing well how many air travel hours Peter had logged in his busy life. "That is one thing I have no intention of getting 'used to'," he grumbled. "Flying is _not_ my idea of a good time."

"Well, you still have time to change your mind," Pete said with a touch of humour.

"Oh, don't tempt me," Jack countered. "I have half a mind to stay right here. But… Lou would never let me hear the end of it, because doctor's orders are _doctor's orders_."

Pete gave a wry grin and nodded, as he was all-too-familiar with his wife's ways. "Listen, Jack…" he started, "I know it's the last thing you want to hear, but… I've been around you long enough to know it's tough for you to let go, so, if only for Lou's sake—"

"What about my sake?" Lou abruptly came up behind Peter with a sleepy Katie in her arms.

"Uh… I was just saying for your sake, we should probably get going pretty quickly here," Peter said lamely. "Let us get out of your hair. You have things to do with Katie and other business, so… The sooner we leave: the better for you."

Lou pouted. "All right," she said doubtfully, and looked over at Jack. "Come here, Grandpa, so Katie and I can give you a kiss goodbye."

Jack willingly crossed over to them and gently took his great-granddaughter in his arms. "I'm gonna miss you, sweetie," he said fervently as the toddler snuggled up against him and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. She scrunched up her little nose as Jack's bushy moustache tickled her cheek.

"My turn," Lou said. Jack obliged by leaning in, and they sandwiched Katie between them in a warm group hug. "'Bye, Grandpa," said Lou with a wistful tone. "Be good!"

"I will," Jack replied patiently as he handed Katie back to her mother.

"And call when you get to Phoenix!" Lou added as Jack went to his bags which were waiting at the front door.

"I'll do that, too," Jack said, suppressing a sigh at the fact that Lou was slipping into 'fuss' mode again.

Peter joined Jack at the door and grabbed one of the suitcases. "'Bye, Lou; 'bye, Katie!" he called as he waved to them. Katie waved back sleepily with one hand and rubbed her eyes with another.

"Oh! Grandpa, you have your heart medication, right?" Lou asked anxiously.

"Yes, Lou," Jack answered, just an inch a way from condescension. "Now, stop worrying; I can take care of myself just fine on this trip."

Lou bit her lip to keep from saying anything further and walked over to see the men off. In seconds, they were out the door and into the SUV for the drive to the airport.

"Drive safely!" she shouted after the retreating vehicle. Peter gave the horn a honk in reply, and they were gone.

Relieved to be finally away from Lou's unnecessary mother-hen pecking, Jack expelled a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He was grateful he had family that cared about him, but ever since suffering the heart attack, Lou had been treating him like an invalid, even after Dr. Gill recommended the vacation. And if Dr. Gill thought is was a good idea taking a vacation away from home—alone—then surely that meant he was healthy. _Maybe being away from home and all of Lou's smothering will be a good thing after all… _Even so, it made Jack itchy just thinking about being subjected to the security searches, having to sit for a few hours in a cramped seat, breathing in stale, recycled air with everyone else's germs circulating, and using a lavatory that was even more stinky than the Dude Ranch outhouses.

"You know Lou only has your best interests at heart, Jack," Peter said conversationally, hoping Jack would be receptive to the topic.

"Yup," Jack replied absently. He was caught up in thinking about the last time he had flown, which had been the return trip from Paris with Lisa. Somehow, she'd been able to doze off, which meant she was totally oblivious to a sudden (yet mercifully brief) attack of nerves that came over Jack mid-way through the flight. He remembered thinking that he was going to suffocate in the cabin if he didn't get fresh air soon. Part of him was on the verge of waking Lisa, but the other part scolded him for being so discomposed. No way was he going to admit to Lisa he was feeling dreadful, because he just knew his true feelings about how he had not enjoyed the France visit would tumble out at the same time, and that was the very _last_ thing he needed right then.

So, he'd sucked it up, gulped down some lukewarm water, and turned the air conditioning vent towards his sweaty face in the vain hope it would bring some relief. Another five minutes of deep, deliberate breaths and Jack began to feel a little more relaxed. A quick glance over at Lisa showed she was off in some dreamland, oblivious to his mild panic attack. He envied her that calm, and somehow doubted he'd ever get used to travelling as she had.

_You don't tell me how you feel or what you need!_

Jack was struck suddenly by the memory of what Lisa had said during their last argument.

_You just don't get it, Lis,_ he thought. _I don't want people to think I need something from them all the time. I don't want people to think I'm an imposition. I don't want… I don't want to be burdensome, especially to you. So you just go lavish your generosity on someone else. There's bound to be plenty men out there who want to be with you; Dan Hartfield's probably at the top of that list: he's been hanging around this whole time, always thinking he can run interference, all the while carrying the torch for you... _Jack scowled at the thought of Lisa's ex-husband and tried without success not to rehash all the unpleasant encounters he'd had with the insufferable man. _What did Lisa ever see in you, anyway?_ Jack couldn't help but wonder about his would-be rival for Lisa's affections. The "small potatoes" comment Dan made so many years ago still rankled every time the memory of it surfaced as it did at that very moment. Now Jack's mood was thoroughly ruined, and Peter seemed to sense the sudden, subtle shift. He wisely kept his mouth shut for the rest of the drive and they reached Calgary International Airport in plenty of time, despite getting in snagged in some morning rush-hour traffic along the way.

"Take care, Jack," Peter said as he brought Jack to the designated area for quick drop-offs. "And… for Lou's sake—well, for _everyone's_ sake—come back home in one piece, okay?"

Jack nodded gravely as he exited the SUV and lugged his bags to the curb. "I will," he said solemnly, knowing Peter meant well.

"All right," Peter murmured, convinced that Jack meant what he said. At that, he put the SUV in gear and drove off for home, leaving Jack to continue along the rest of his journey by himself.

Forgoing a baggage cart because he really didn't think he needed one, Jack made his way down the concourse in search of his airline's check-in counter. He'd made sure he had all his necessary documentation packed the night before, so he had no anxieties about procedure once he got to the front of the line; Lisa had taught him all about getting through airports quickly and efficiently on their previous excursion.

Going through the security check was relatively painless as Jack had nothing out of the ordinary to declare except his heart medication, but he still very much disliked having to remove his boots during the screening process. When they finally allowed passengers for the flight to Arizona to board, Jack picked up his small carry-on bag and made his way towards the waiting Boeing 737. If he'd any qualms about leaving at this point, he knew it was too late to turn back.

_Here goes nothing,_ he mused, as he stepped through the open airplane door and followed the steward's directions to his assigned seat. The seats were three abreast on left and right with a single aisle down the center of the plane, and Jack squeezed in to the end of his row to sit at the window. The steward took Jack's bag and stowed it for him in the bin above. "Have a pleasant flight, sir," the young man said amiably, and was quickly back up the aisle to assist other passengers.

Two minutes later, a married couple who looked to be in their late '60s took up the seats next to Jack. He instantly pegged them as the 'snowbird' type, and Jack was pleased to note they were content to keep to themselves and not chatter endlessly to him or involve them in their conversations: The usual pleasantries and first names were exchanged, but that was all his seat mates seemed to expect of him, and he was fine with that.

The plane was starting to fill, but Jack noted it wasn't quite at capacity when the doors were finally sealed in preparation for takeoff. A few groans went up from the passengers when the captain announced that they were eleventh in line for takeoff and that they should just sit tight and be patient; they were still going to make it to Phoenix on schedule.

"_By the time I get to Phoenix…"_

The opening bar of the famous Glen Campbell song ran through Jack's mind. _What will Lisa be doing by the time I get to Phoenix?_ Jack didn't even know what the time difference was between Arizona and France, and he wasn't about to waste the mental energy trying to figure it out. Best guess was that it would be late evening or night in Toulon (or wherever she was in France) by the time the plane touched down. _And that probably means she'll be eating at some highfalutin restaurant where there are seventeen forks and eight wine glasses and ten courses before dessert… Call me crazy, but I like to be able to identify what I'm eating, and not have my food looking like some science experiment gone wrong._

Lisa had been downright shocked when Jack asserted he didn't think he had a decent meal the entire time they'd been in France. She had no qualms about eating things with strange names and even stranger appearances. But to her credit (Jack had to admit), Lisa was just as comfortable sitting in the ranch house eating _normal_ food as she was in those so-called "best" restaurants in Europe. He'd never once seen her turn up her nose at the humble fare Lou would cook up, or the fish he prepared in an old, beat-up skillet at the fishing cabin.

_You can manoeuver between those two worlds with no problem, Lisa. That's the kind of person you are. You're at ease anywhere and everywhere you go, but that's not who I am. I could never belong in your world of fancy restaurants and rich horse people who don't think twice about spending a thousand or more on lunch. You don't need this old goat to ruin things for you._

A roar from the engines filled Jack's ears, and he felt the plane accelerate. He hadn't even noticed they had been taxiing towards the runway for takeoff. Soon, they were hurtling down the tarmac and in moments they were airborne, soaring into the sky above the clouds. Jack hated takeoffs the most due to the unnatural sensations and the sudden air pressure changes that plugged his ears and caused them to pop. The first time they'd flown together, Lisa had taken his hand and assured him it would all be fine when he'd mention his ears were bothering him. "Just yawn," she'd instructed. "It helps."

It had helped, and Jack found himself forcing a yawn to help equalize the pressure this time, too. It took another few seconds for him to fully admit what he was really missing was having Lisa there to hold his hand, but he impatiently banished the thought.

Scolding himself, he thought: _I'm a grown man. I don't need someone to hold my hand and take care of me like some helpless infant. I'll suck it up if I start feeling like crap on this flight. I'll be in Phoenix in three hours. I don't need Lisa to get me through this. I can do this… By the time I get to Phoenix, I'm going to be fine. I'm going to be just fine. _

He kept repeating that phrase to himself like a mantra, but the more he repeated it, the more Jack realised he was lying to himself. He was already missing Lisa.

* * *

><p>to be continued...<p>

* * *

><p><strong>For further information on the chinook: <strong>

"The Chinook is a foehn wind, a rain shadow wind which results from the subsequent adiabatic warming of air which has dropped most of its moisture on windward slopes (orographic lift). As a consequence of the different adiabatic rates of moist and dry air, the air on the leeward slopes becomes warmer than equivalent elevations on the windward slopes.

As moist winds from the Pacific (also called Chinooks) are forced to rise over the mountains, the moisture in the air is condensed and falls out as precipitation, while the air cools at the moist adiabatic rate of 5°C/1000 m (3.5°F/1000 ft). The dried air then descends on the leeward side of the mountains, warming at the dry adiabatic rate of 10°C/1000m (5.5°F/1000 ft)."

- taken from the Chinook wind Wikipedia entry because sometimes Wiki actually presents useful, accurate information.


End file.
